


Splintered Paths

by hetzi_clutch



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Abusive overtones in Lillian Luthor's relationship with Kara, Alternate Universe, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, Gen, Lena and Kara are on opposite sides....literally, SuperCorp, and honestly straight up abuse too so be warned, except it's more like switched at adoption AU, i will tag as i go, im not sure what else to tag but I'll keep updating as I figure out, playing hard and fast with canon lads, switched at birth au, there will definitely be violence but I'm not sure how much, toxic parental relationships and manipulation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-28
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-04-29 03:21:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14463897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hetzi_clutch/pseuds/hetzi_clutch
Summary: When an alien pod crashes into his backyard one night, Lionel Luthor, still grieving over giving up on his daughter, makes a choice. Seeing an opportunity, he decides to take the child in, raising her in place of his abandoned daughter.Without a word of English or knowledge about planet Earth, Kara Zor El, a refugee from a destroyed planet, is taken in and raised as Kara Luthor, the second heir of one of the most powerful corporations in the world.Two years after her almost adoption, a young Lena is moved at the age of six to an orphanage in Midvale, only to be quickly adopted into a loving family - the Danvers. Naturally brilliant, she breezes through two degrees by her late teens, only to turn to a surprising profession: Investigative Journalism.Following Lex Luthor's murderous descent into insanity, LuthorCorp is teetering on the verge of collapse, only a scandal away from utter destruction. Lena Danvers, a young and ambitious rookie journalist, is convinced that she has the exact story to bring the company down - and all she has to do is go undercover and ferret out the secrets surrounding the company's brilliant, yet mysterious new R&D department head.A certain Kara Luthor.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hey ya'll. This is the start of an idea I've had sitting around in my files for ages, one of the first things I actually tried to write. I've written the first couple chapters, but stopped and put it aside out of an uncertainty of just how I wanted to tell the story. It's always been at the back of my mind though, and even though I'm not actively working on it, I've been coming back to the idea every now and then. I have a clear picture of just how I want the story to go in my head, but I haven't really been working on it intensely.
> 
> Anyway, I've been sitting on this idea, and then I thought that maybe I'll post the first couple chapters, just to gauge interest. I have absolutely no timeline for how fast I'll potentially continue with this story, if I do at all, but I'd love it if you all told me what you think.

The pod crashed on a cold and dreary, late autumn night.

It lit up the sky and surrounding area as it arced over head, sparking and flaming madly, and to any bystander it would have been clear that the pod was only moments from spinning wildly out of control.

But there were no bystanders, for it was late at night, in a nice, well-to-do area, one that could have been called suburban except the houses were mansions and the yards were acres of perfectly trimmed lawns, divided by distance if not fences.

It was not the sort of area where people would be out and about at two in the morning.

To this end, when the pod finally spun out of control and slammed into the ground, skidding several hundred meters of spent momentum and opening up an ugly gash of dirt and debris in the perfect grass - there was only one person who happened to see it.

Lionel Luthor was no stranger to working extremely late hours. As the man who had built LuthorCorp from the ground up, he was not afraid of hard work and long nights. In fact, it was to this end that he had designed his home office - as an enormous study that had all the necessities required to work from home, and coincidentally commanded the best view of the Luthors' rolling estate.

It was a normal night for Lionel Luthor to be at his desk at two in the morning, hunched over papers or blueprints, a cup of long-cold coffee standing stagnant by his right hand. What was unusual was the resounding BOOM that cracked the window and startled the businessman from his work. He jumped at the sound, sending his papers and coffee flying, and at this let off a round of expletives. He was still cursing as he bent to retrieve the papers, before rising to look out the window, wondering what in hell could possibly have made that noise.

As he took in the scene, the curses died on his lips. He stood staring in shock, trying to make sense of the scene before him. _Something_ had crashed into his beautifully pruned backyard, wrecking the landscaping and leaving a hideous trail of flaming debris in its wake.

And that something.....that something....

Lionel Luthor was not a man predisposed to believe in conspiracy theories, but he could have sworn that a UFO had just crashed into his backyard.

\---

He'd paused only to grab shoes and a flashlight before he raced out the back door, remembering at the last moment not to let the door slam behind him. Rousing the servants or Lillian was the last thing he wanted to do. His wife was predisposed to no-nonsense skepticism, and would want the _thing_ disposed of immediately, with as few questions as possible. Lionel knew, of course, that the thing would have to  
be got rid of as soon as possible, but he was not about to let the chance to investigate alien technology slip through his fingers.

After all, he thought as he approached the wreckage, light from his flashlight swing back and forth, how often did a technology developer get exclusive access to advanced alien technology?

For it was almost certainly advanced, far beyond all human capabilities. As he approached the object, it became clear to Lionel that the UFO looked to be some sort of transport pod, roughly the size to fit one humanoid creature - though god knew what kind of thing might actually be inside. At that thought he stopped, perched precariously on the edge of the hole that the pod had dug into his lawn. Warring emotions of curiosity and fear played across his face as he peered down at the _thing_ , noting rather absentmindedly that the pod itself looked like the design a 1950s sci-fi writer might have thought up - all sleek angles and a bubble cockpit, just the right size for one or two human pilots. Perhaps it wasn't actually a UFO, but a secret experimental military craft? 

At this thought his curiosity began to win out over fear, and he shined his flashlight down onto what looked to be a cockpit, trying to make out the details of the design, or a possible military emblem.

As the light hit the cockpit, a series of whirrs and clicks rang out, breaking the silence of the still night. Lionel sprung back in shock, letting out another string of expletives as he stumbled on an uprooted rock and nearly lost his grip on the flashlight. He fumbled for the light and shined it back on the pod, which continued to make a series of mechanical noises - _almost as if whatever mechanism that was trying to activate wasn’t managing to function properly,_ he thought dimly. 

The implications of that thought sent Lionel’s mind spinning off into a realm of possibilities, but before he could make sense of any of them, there was one final loud _Click!_ followed by a whooshing noise, and he realized that whatever mechanism had gone wrong, it was working now. What he’d assumed to be the cockpit was moving, shifting and folding back in on itself, but slowly; as if it hadn’t been opened in a very long time.

For a split second Lionel considered fleeing back into the safety of his house, but then he took ahold of his emotions, swallowing the ball of fear that seemed to be blocking his airway. _You're a grown man, and the head of the leading tech company in the world,_ he reminded himself sternly, willing his spine to straighten and his heart to stop turning so fast. _You can face whatever is in that pod._

And so Lionel Luthor stood his ground and watched, white-faced, as the pod's cockpit slowly, slowly, inched open to reveal its occupant. He leaned forward as the last part of the cockpit folded itself away, and squinted into the flashlight’s beam. Half of him expected to be greeted by some monstrous alien lifeform, while the other half expected so see some sort of military pilot, a victim of a secret training operation gone wrong.

It was neither.

Instead, it was a girl.

….a girl?

Lionel’s sense of terror faded even as his mind reeled, trying to make sense of the situation. His eyes roamed over the image before him, struggling to find some sort of cohesion; an alien pod, and sitting in the cockpit was a smallish blonde girl, eyes wide and face white with fear to match his own, looking as human as any child he might pass on the street.

She looked to be about thirteen - the age of the daughter he'd almost had.

It was this thought that finally sent Lionel Luthor into action. He plunged into the hole, only briefly regretting the dirt that immediately caked to his fine silk pajamas, and within moments he was at the lip of the pod's cockpit. This appeared to be good timing because it looked like the girl was about to panic.

"Hey, shhh, it's okay," He smiled what he hoped to be an encouraging smile. "I can help you."

The girl just looked at him fearfully, not understanding. He hesitated a moment, and then, pushing away the distant part of his mind that was wondering what he could possibly be thinking - _she’s an alien, for god’s sake_ \- offered his hand to the girl. 

“You don’t have to be afraid,” He said softly. It was clear she didn’t understand the words, but he kept his smile and his hand outstretched, and as she looked at his hand, and then back at him, a flicker of something - understanding? trust? - crossed her face.

There was a moment’s silence, heavy in the night air, and then she reached up and firmly grasped his hand.


	2. 2004

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. Ok. So I got a much bigger response than I expected. I honestly didn't think that you guys would be so interested in this concept, even though i have to admit I'm a huge sucker for these kind of 'switched places' AUs, so I guess it makes sense that others share my passion for angsty 'what if' AUs! That being said, once I saw your guys' enthusiasm (and wonderful comments), I decided that there was no point waiting on the second chapter, since it's been written. The next few chapters, however, are only half-finished and will take a good deal more time.
> 
> Oh, and I just have to say that I noticed that so many of you commented something like 'oh, I had a similar idea!' and guys. Write them. Please. I will read every one. Every. One.

By the time the first shades of dawn had started to filter through, Lionel had almost completed the process of turning last night's mysterious event into an almost normal morning - or as normal as could be, considering that what he was planning was about to change the dynamic of their little family forever.

He had worked the whole night through, not pausing for a wink of sleep, and by half-past five - Lillian’s normal waking hour - Lionel had everything ready. A discreetly placed late night call to one of his former loyal employees had ensured that the pod was already moved to a secure location, stashed in one of the company's many secret and heavily fortified vaults. The family's landscaping team - after signing a hastily whipped up non disclosure agreement - were hard at work returning the lawn to its original pristine condition.

And the family handyman was hard at working fixing the back door, which the girl had accidentally ripped off its hinges.

The girl in question was sitting at the dining room table, scarfing down a ridiculous amount of breakfast as she cast alternated frightened glances between himself, the handyman, and the broken door propped up against the wall. From the looks she was giving the door, Lionel had the feeling that the girl’s impossible feat of strength had been as much of a surprise to her as it had to him.

Which led to a whole new set of questions. 

None of which could be answered immediately, because Lionel had come to the conclusion that whatever language the girl knew, it was not of this earth. 

Lionel sat across from the girl, drumming his fingers thoughtfully on the table as he gazed absentmindedly at her. A part of him knew that what he was doing was ridiculous; what kind of sane man would approach a crashed alien spaceship, let alone bring the alien into his home? For all he knew, the girl could be hiding her true form, in order to lull him into a false sense of security.

However, as he looked at the girl, Lionel couldn't bring himself to believe that. She was too real - too scared, too wide-eyed, too vulnerable - to be acting. And the thought of leaving the girl out in the cold had immediately conjured up an aching memory of a similar situation - of his daughter, so many years ago. Whom he hadn't saved when he'd had the chance. Whom he'd let slip through his fingers, if only to preserve his marriage. Whom he'd failed.

No, Lionel Luthor would not do such a thing again. 

So he sat there, clutching his cup of coffee and staring at the child while he pondered the situation. She glanced up from her food momentarily, meeting his gaze, and he noticed that the panic from her first moments in the pod had faded. She looked wary, but inquisitive.

“Who are you?” He asked aloud, not really expecting a useful answer. The girl frowned at his words, and said something in that strange incomprehensible language of hers. He sighed, and she went back to her oatmeal. It was the third time he’d tried to question her, though from the first sentence it became clear that she didn’t know a word of English - or any language that Lionel recognized. Mentally, he filed away a note to get the girl a tutor as soon as possible.

However, a tutor was but one item on an ever-growing list of ‘things-to-accomplish’ that Lionel found himself mentally compiling as he pondered the situation. English lessons were certainly high up on the list, but there was also the matter of studying the girl; of understanding what exactly she was, and what she was capable of. If the broken door was any indication, the girl possessed powers not known to humans, and the scientist in Lionel itched to find out exactly what that entailed. 

How could he though, without any means of communication? For god’s sake, he didn’t even know the child’s name.

“Your name!” He gasped, realization hitting him like a slap in the face. Unthinkingly he brought his mug to the table with a bang, causing the girl to flinch. The spoon in her grasp crumpled like tinfoil.

“It’s fine,” He said dismissively, as the girl stared at the now-ruined spoon in shock. “The cook will bring you another one.” He tapped his thumb to his chin as he struggled to think of the best way to get his idea across.

“I need to know your name,” He said aloud, though he knew the girl couldn’t understand. It didn’t matter - the act of talking, of thinking out loud, brought the half-baked thought out into the open, forming it into an idea. The girl stared at him uncomprehendingly.

Leaning forward, Lionel jabbed his index finger to his chest. “Lionel Luthor,” He said loudly, making sure to enunciate each syllable. 

“Lionel Luthor,” He said again, and then pointed at the girl. “And you are?” 

The girl just looked at him for a long moment, saying nothing. Just as he was about to toss his rudimentary idea, she lifted up a finger, and pointed at him uncertainly.

“Lio-nel...Lu-thor?” The words came out strangely lilted, but recognizable all the same.

“Yes!” Lionel found himself grinning madly, flushed with victory. “Lionel Luthor!” He jabbed his finger once more towards his own chest to emphasize the point, and then turned it again towards the girl. “And you?”

The girl considered him for a second, and then pointed at herself, and let out a jumble of loose syllables that Lionel didn’t quite catch. At the flash of confusion on his face, she repeated them, more slowly.

“Ka-ra...Zor-El.” This time Lionel managed to catch the words, and he couldn’t help the grin from breaking out once again on his face.

“Kara Zor-El,” His tone rung warm with enthusiasm. “Nice to meet you.”

The girl - Kara - gave him a tentative smile, which faded as her eyes fell again on the sight of the crumpled spoon. She murmured something again in her own language that he didn’t understand.

“Don’t worry about that,” He told her, hoping that the encouragement in his voice would get through to her even if the words themselves did not. “We’re going to figure you out. First we’re going to get you English lessons, and then once you’re proficient enough we’ll run some tests, and then we’ll be able to - “

His words faded as the girl’s - _Kara’s_ \- startled gaze flicked up to something in the doorway, and he himself almost winced as the voice he’d been dreading rang out behind him.

“- able to _what?_ ” Lillian’s voice was cold enough to freeze ice, and Lionel didn’t have to look at her to know that her eyes would be just as frozen as her voice. He did anyway, turning in his seat to find his wife standing in the doorway, glaring at him with barely disguised fury.

“Lionel,” She spat his name like a curse. “What is the meaning of this?” She crooked one finger at Kara, not even deigning to look at the girl. “Why is there a girl in our dining room?”

“Her name is Kara,” Lionel answered automatically, mind desperately searching for the best way to explain what had transpired. 

“Oh, I see, so this homeless child has a name,” Lillian snorted with disdain, before rounding on the girl. “Alright, Kara, do explain why you happen to be sitting in my house. I hope this is not a case of breaking and entering; I admit my husband has a soft heart, but I will not hesitate to call the police.”

Kara shrunk under the ferocity of Lillian’s gaze, but did not look away. Wisely, she chose to remain silent, and Lionel jumped in before she decided to do otherwise.

“I brought her in here,” He said, drawing Lillian’s glare away from the girl. Her ferocity, terrifying as it could be, was one of the things he loved most about Lillian. It was a spectacular weapon in business meetings, and could reduce the cockiest CEO to a sniveling mess, but his wife never really knew when to lower the intensity. He didn’t want Kara to become more spooked than she already was - especially after their breakthrough in communication.

Lillian crossed her arms, eyes still sparking with anger, but looking rather intrigued despite herself. “Oh? May I ask why?”

“I...found her,” He swallowed thickly, wondering if he could make his next words sound any less ridiculous. The prospect seemed unlikely, so he simply dove in. “I was studying late at night, as usual, when I saw something crash in the backyard, so I went out to investigate. I found what looked like some sort of spacecraft, but the only occupant was...well, her.” He gestured vaguely towards Kara to make his point, who was watching the interaction between the two adults with a wary interest.

Lillian hummed in disbelief and her gaze flickering back towards Kara. “Now Lionel, I of all people know you’re not an imaginative man, but even so, I find that story hard to swallow.”

Lionel just looked at her for a moment, before shrugging helplessly. “I don’t know what to tell you, dear. You can look at the backyard if you don’t believe me. Or the door, for that matter.”

He gestured towards the other side of the room. Lillian followed his gaze and for the first time seemed to notice the splintered door frame and the unhinged door leaning up against the wall. Her gaze darted between that and the bay window, through which it was possible to see the wreckage from the previous night, and the workmen busily scurrying around it. He stifled a small grin of satisfaction as the look of disbelief on her face vanished almost immediately. She took in the scene, eyebrows raised, and something close to fear flickered in her eyes.

“That girl…she...” 

“Ripped the door off its hinges.” Lionel confirmed. No use pulling punches now. Instead he watched his wife’s reaction closely, noting with some consternation how the color seemed to be draining from her face. She was very clearly perturbed by the situation, and if Lionel was at all familiar with the way his wife reacted when she was deeply unsettled, then neither he or Kara would like what was coming next.

Unfortunately, Kara, who had remained silent up until that point, saw how the older woman was looking towards the broken door and chose that moment to speak up, mumbling something in her unintelligible language as a look of repentance flashed across her face.

This was exactly the wrong thing to do. This time when Lillian looked at Kara, there was no mistaking the trepidation in her eyes. They flashed with the sort of horrified revulsion that Lionel intimately recognized in his wife; it was the same reaction she always had when she encountered something that made her uneasy. 

Lillian’s first reaction towards fear was to turn it into hate.

She turned on him, nostrils flaring. “You - you let that... _thing_...into our _house!_ What in god’s name is _wrong_ with you?” Spittle flew with each word as her eyes cut into his.

This was the reaction Lionel had been hoping to avoid. He stood immediately, pausing only to cast an encouraging glance at the confused and frightened girl before turning towards his wife.

“Let’s talk about this in the hall.” He spoke firmly. “I don’t want to frighten the child.”

Lillian laughed a high, breathy laugh that bordered on hysterical. “Oh, you don’t want to scare the _child?_ The _alien child?_ Now why would I do that? I assume she can’t understand what we’re saying in any case.”

Lionel grimaced. “Of course not. But I’d rather not yell in front of her, lest she get the wrong impression.”

Lillian gave another harsh laugh. “Oh, of course, the wrong impression. How could I give an alien the wrong impression? You truly are a piece of work, Lionel. But fine. I’d rather not discuss anything with that... _thing_ staring at me.”

With those words she cast one last look of disgust at Kara, before turning on her heel and sweeping out of the room. Lionel scowled in her direction, then shot a concerned glance at Kara, who seemed dazed with shock at the violent turn the conversation had taken. Lionel noted curiously that sometime during the conversation her hands had drifted up to clasp firmly over her ears, the distress written plainly across her face. He tried to summon a reassuring smile.

“I’ll be right back - five minutes tops,” He told her, holding up one hand with fingers splayed so as to reinforce his point. She seemed to understand, and nodded slowly as her hands lowered. With one last reassuring nod, Lionel turned and followed his wife out to where she stood in the hallway, arms crossed in consternation.

They were only a few steps out of earshot from the dining room, but Lillian was clearly not about to wait any longer. Before Lionel could open his mouth or even form a reasonable thought, Lillian rounded on him, words spilling out in an incensed fury.

“Stop - don’t even speak, Lionel.” She spat each word like a dagger. “Admit it - this is just your sad attempt to bring back that embarrassing idea you had a few years ago, isn’t it? I knew you never gave it up. It was bad enough you tried to bring in the daughter of one of your whores -”

“Be quiet,” Lionel warned, voice low with fury.

“- but you really had to outdo yourself this time, didn’t you?” She plowed through his interruption as if she hadn’t heard. “The first child you could drag in, nevermind that she happens to be some sort of vile, dangerous _creature_ \- “

“Just let me -”

“You just couldn’t resist could you? With your recklessness I’m surprised this company ever got off the ground, even with my help-”

“Shut up!” Lionel felt his temper snap. “God woman, shut your mouth for one second!”

Lillian’s eyes widened in shock as her mouth snapped shut, cutting off the next insult she was about to deliver. Lionel rarely yelled, and almost never at his wife. Long years of marriage had taught him to take her constant snips and cutting remarks without rising to the bait, but even he had limits. There were some lines that he would not allow to be crossed. 

Lionel ran his hand over his scalp - an old habit from his younger days, when he had a full head of hair - and said in a quieter tone, through gritted teeth: “I understand your concerns, but I will not have you yelling at me as if I were one of your company lackeys. I will explain, but not with you interrupting me just to score points. This is immature, Lillian.”

Lillian’s eyes were still sharp with anger, but she didn’t utter another scathing remark. Instead, she frowned, lips pursing into a thin line. “Fine. Please explain to me the logic behind your decision-making here, because I am finding it hard to follow.”

“It wasn’t much of a choice,” Lionel answered, his voice forcibly calm. “Her spacecraft - or pod, or whatever - landed right in our backyard, inches from the house. We’re lucky I was the only one awake to see it, or hear it for that matter. Obviously I wasn’t going to leave the wreckage for somebody else to find in the morning.” 

He paused for a moment, to take in Lillian’s reaction. She kept her scowl, but nodded tightly for him to continue.

“I didn’t know what I’d find - my first guess was that it might be some kind of secret military aircraft, which it obviously isn’t. The only one in the craft was the girl. I wasn’t going to leave her there - and don’t give me that look, Lillian, it’s not about my soft heart, it’s about the fact that I wasn’t about to leave some alien girl from outer space running around the estate!”

Lillian was now listening intently. Her hot fury from earlier had slowly begun to evaporate - slowly. Still, her tense posture betrayed her hesitation. She leaned against the oak-paneled wall, silk bathrobe rustling with the movement. Her arms were tightly crossed.

“Fine. I suppose I can see your reasoning,” She allowed reluctantly. “But that was incredibly reckless, Lionel - bringing her inside our home without even a thought to the consequences! For all we know, she might not even be a little girl. She might have just assumed the shape of a child to appear harmless, did you ever think of that?”

“I did,” He replied. “But I don’t think that’s the case. She’d have to be an outstanding actress, and if she had meant us harm, don’t you think she would have done something by now? She’s certainly capable of it.”

“We can’t truly know the alien’s intentions,” Lillian said coldly.

Lionel shook his head. “It’s a risk, but in any case, I plan on testing her as soon as possible. I want to know her capabilities.”

Lillian gave an almost invisible start of surprise at this statement. A glimmer of sudden understanding danced in her eyes. “You plan...on using her?”

“What else would you suggest I do?” Lionel’s reply was snappish with irritation. “I may be pathetically soft-hearted, as you so kindly mentioned, but I won’t just let a resource like that go to waste. That child has strength beyond anything I've ever seen - and who knows what other powers she may have? She climbed out of that wreckage without a scratch on her. Do you really want to hand something like that over to the government, or worse, let her go free?”

His wife was watching him thoughtfully as she took in his words. From the unpleasant expression on her face it appeared as if she too was imagining such consequences.

"And you believe the best course of action would be to take this child in?"

“Of course! Think about it, that girl is - what, eleven? Twelve? She doesn't even speak English, for Christ’s sakes. We could raise her, teach her, integrate her into the company -”

"- you want an alien to work for the company." Lillian cut in, her voice flat. One eyebrow was raised in disbelief, but the venom in her expression had been replaced entirely by a intrigued, yet calculating look.

“What else would she do?” Lionel clung to the opening, and began to gesture eagerly, as if painting into the air the possibilities he saw in his mind. “Forget about her physical powers for a moment - think about her mind! Lillian, dear, you didn’t see that spacecraft, but it was light years ahead of our technology. If her species is capable of something like that, I can only imagine what knowledge the girl possesses! Put her in R&D and we'd be on the cutting edge of technology for the next fifty years - or more, who knows?”

A moment of silence passed between them. Lillian looked at him thoughtfully, digesting what he had said. Lionel waited, suddenly aware of the sounds of plates being cleared away in the dining room. It was far past five minutes now - Kara was probably waiting for them to return. He wondered if she had some inkling that the two adults were deciding upon her future.

“I must admit, your arguments are...reasonable,” Lillian admitted at last. “There are some...benefits to your plan, and a dearth of other viable options - though god knows you’re just trying to sway me over because of your damn soft heartedness.”

She gave him a small conciliatory smile, which Lionel took as a sign of victory. He returned her smile with his own, and reached out to touch her cheek.

“It’s just making the best of a bad situation, darling,” He murmured.

Still smiling, she reached up and gently moved his hand away. “You can’t just win me over with a few nice words, you know. I’m still not entirely convinced that this plan won’t be a disaster. As it were, I have some conditions.”

He grimaced. “Conditions?”

“Just one, actually.” Her grin bared teeth. “I want to be the girl’s primary caretaker. I want to oversee her integration, her training, lessons, testing - everything. Of course I will share everything with you, but I will be the one in charge.”

He sighed. “I don’t see that it matters who is considered the primary -”

“Oh but it does, Lionel.” There was a calculating glint in her eyes. “It’s the most logical course of action. How many days out of your busy schedule do you have to spare bringing up an alien child - who can’t even speak English - into our culture? That is, when you’re not jetting off for weeks at a time to conferences and business meetings.”

Lionel opened his mouth to protest, but she cut him off with a severe look.

“I’m not trying to insult you, Lionel. I am simply stating the truth as it inevitably will be. We raised Lex the same way, and he turned out fine. You have your work, and I mine, but the fact of the matter is that the weight of responsibility in raising the girl will fall to me, and so I don’t want any squabbling about it down the road. Do you understand where I’m coming from?”

Lionel felt, as so often happened with his wife, that his control of the situation was spinning away from him. Lillian always had a discerning knack for taking a plan and twisting it into her own scheme - and somehow always coming out as the primary beneficiary. He ground his teeth, trying to think of a reasonable objection.

The problem was, she was right.

“Fine,” Lionel growled after several long moments of internal deliberation. Now it was Lillian’s turn to smile triumphantly.

“Wonderful,” She crooned, and offered her hand, which he took reluctantly. “Now let’s go introduce ourselves properly.”

———

_1998, Midvale Adoption Center_

Eliza and Jeremiah Danvers trailed somewhat hesitantly after the orphanage caretaker. She was a matronly woman, stern but with kind wrinkles around the eyes, and she bustled around in a reassuring way, as if she knew exactly what she was doing at all times.

She led the couple to a rather bare room, the sole furniture a couple of overstuffed sofas, artfully placed around a worn coffee table. The caretaker gestured for the two to sit down, and gave them an encouraging wink as they did so.

“I’ll bring her around in just a moment,” she said with a kind smile. “She hasn’t had much luck in the system, but I really think you’ll like her.”

Eliza and Jeremiah shared a nervous look, and then Jeremiah placed his hand on Eliza’s knee, and gave the caretaker a firm nod.

“We’ll be waiting right here,” he told her. His voice was serious but the warmth in his tone was impossible to miss. Eliza simply returned the caretaker’s smile with her own, rather anxious one.

Once she had left the room, they both let out an apprehensive huff of air. Several moments of heavy silence passed, before at last Eliza spoke. 

“Do you really think we’re going about this the right way?” she asked, her voice tight with worry. “I mean, I feel like it’s the right thing to do, but what if we can’t raise her the way she needs? These kids go through so much in the system -“

“Eliza.” Jeremiah’s hand left her knee, and his warm fingers wrapped around hers. She lifted her eyes to meet his, and relaxed in the comfort of his gaze, though by the spark of worry nearly hidden in his brown eyes, she could tell that he had been thinking the same thing. 

“I’m worried about this whole thing too - you know what our friends kept telling us about adopting. But we both agreed that if we wanted another child, it’d better to help someone already in the system, right? To give a home to somebody who needs one.”

Eliza sighed. “You’re right,” she answered. “ _We’re_ right. This is the right thing to do. Besides, Alex has been pestering us for way too long about having a sibling.”

Jeremiah laughed. “God help us if _that’s_ our main reason for doing this whole thing. Last time she begged for something so much, it was that scooter she used for two weeks and then immediately forgot about.”

“Oh, yeah, I forgot about that,” Eliza chuckled at the memory. “Right, we should definitely strike Alex off the list of reasons. It’s probably a good thing we haven’t told her yet -“

Her sentence was interrupted by the swing of the door, as the caretaker bustled back inside. Her expression burst into an enthusiastic grin when she saw them, her eyes sparkling with excitement, and then gestured towards the little girl who trailed behind her, clinging to her hand like it was a lifeline.

Eliza met the gaze of the little girl, and her breath immediately caught in her throat. She was a gorgeous child, her green eyes wide and solemn as they surveyed the two adults. She frowned distrustfully at them, nose crinkling, and shuffled closer to the caretaker.

“Do you want to adopt me?” her voice was high and clear, each word pronounced carefully. An intelligent, almost suspicious spark shone in her eyes, and Eliza shared a quick glance with Jeremiah before answering. She could tell just by the quick flash between them what he was thinking.

_This one’s a smart little cookie, isn’t she?_

Eliza turned back to the little girl, and gave her the warmest smile she could manage - which was easy, since there was something likeable about the little girl’s straight, to the point manner.

“We don’t know,” she answered truthfully. “I think we need to get to know each other first.”

The little girl look at her for a moment, scrutinizing, and Eliza had the funny feeling that she was being judged. Still, she didn’t say a word, and let the girl look her over with a frown.

“Okay,” the girl said at last, and her face cleared abruptly of suspicion. “We can do that.”

And just like that, she pulled out of the caretaker’s grip and walked over to the couch opposite the Danvers. With a small jump she made her way up and sat down, her feet dangling far above the floor.

She looked between them, and then said, her voice somber, “All the other grown ups who came told me I was going to get adopted, and then they left. So it’s good that you guys didn’t lie.”

Her feet swung in the air as she sat, and the caretaker gave Eliza and Jeremiah a silent gesture of encouragement, before slipping out of the room. A beat of silence passed, and then another, before Jeremiah decided to speak.

“Alright, honey, if we’re going to get to know each other I think we should start with introductions.” he gestured towards himself, then Eliza. “My name is Jeremiah Danvers, and this is my wife, Eliza. What’s your name, sweetie?”

The girl considered him for a moment, and then broke into the ghost of a smile. It was a welcome sight.

“I don’t have a last name, but you can call me Lena.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One tiny note - though this fic deals with heavy topics, I don't plan on exactly creating a 'Dark' version of Kara - because I feel like her innate goodness and desire to do the right thing is an enormous part of her character, and I don't want to cut it out without a good reason. Not to say she won't be different, of course. Just not entirely unrecognizable (I hope).


	3. 2004 - Part II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, finally got around to editing and delivering the next chapter. As you can see, we’re still in 2004, and we might stay there for another chapter or two, but I’ll probably jump to the present pretty quick - and from then on, more chapters of Kara’s life with the luthors will be interspersed with the present story. 
> 
> I also want to add that my motivation to get this chapter up (which has been pushed to the side because of my obsessive working on my Novitiate fic) came about because of a sudden and undoubtably evil idea to incorporate into Kara’s upbringing. So, um...yay?

It took less than a fortnight following the girl’s introduction into the Luthor household for Lillian to fully comprehend the depth of the work that lay before her.

Despite her status as a rather unwilling participant in the whole experiment - and she refused to think of it as anything other until there was some proof of success - Lillian had not deluded herself so far as to think it would be easy.

Still, as she began the arduous process of figuring out just how exactly to raise an alien child (God, that was something she never expected she'd have to consider) Lillian Luthor found herself completely swamped by the overwhelming number of issues to consider.

For it wasn't just the challenge of taking in and raising a strange child - no, Lionel could never bring something that simple, could he? - rather, it was more akin to taking in a child that had been raised in the wilderness. 

By wolves.

Two weeks from the day of the adoption found Lillian sitting at her desk, rubbing her temples as she pored over the pages of notes in front of her. The pages stared back, mocking her with the wealth of information she'd collected over the past few days of evaluating the child's condition; information that translated to a daunting amount of work.

First and foremost was the simple fact that the girl, for all intents and purposes, was mute. Or at least, such as Lillian regarded her language incapability. Not only did the girl not speak English, but she apparently didn't speak a single earth language - not that she’d really expected it - and Lillian could find no earth equivalent to the girl’s incomprehensible tongue. She had to settle for bringing in a simple English tutor, albeit one with an outstanding reputation - and a willingness to maintain the utmost level of discretion.

Eventually, Lillian managed to scrape up the best ESL teacher that the Luthor name could attract, though she didn’t rule out that the quality of her find may have been tempered slightly by the woman’s willingness to sign a non-disclosure agreement. Such was the business.

Even with the expensive quality of the tutor, the girl’s studies were slow going, though there was some progress. The child was now able to introduce herself, ask basic questions, and knew the names of all the household members. At Lillian’s insistence, the child had also been immediately schooled in the use of courtesy and basic pleasantries. Fortunately, it appeared as if whatever planet she’d come from was familiar with the idea of manners. And at the least, the girl was obedient, though Lillian couldn’t help but worry about where that obedience came from. After all, it was easy to be obedient, astonishing powers or no, when she was for all intents and purposes helplessly dependent on the people who had taken her in. And the girl was undoubtedly smart - from the moment Lillian had laid eyes on her, she had noticed an unwavering spark of intelligence in those blue eyes. From what she could gather, however, the girl knew nothing of the language, history, or culture of humankind, nevermind the planet itself.

Even with her powers, the girl’s ignorance was a serious disadvantage. Lillian knew it, and she strongly suspected that the girl did too. It was no stretch of imagination to think that the girl recognized compliance as the best option for her situation, especially when the Luthors offered so much to her.

Still, Lillian wondered; what would happen when the girl grew educated? After she had mastered the language, understood the culture, and learned how to blend in with the humans around her? 

What would happen when she didn’t need the Luthor family anymore?

These were the dangers that kept Lillian up at night, and what had made her so initially reluctant to agree to Lionel’s harebrained scheme. It appeared to be the best option - _making the best of a bad situation,_ her husband had called it - but it also carried immense risks for their family. The girl had been frightened, initially wary and reluctant to engage with the people around her, if not downright suspicious. Lionel seemed to have won her over - he’d always had a way with children that Lillian herself lacked - but that was just the first step in the journey. Lillian had seen the intelligence in the child’s eyes, and she dared not forget it. 

She would not allow herself to underestimate the child. To do so might be the ruin of them all. 

And to that end, Lillian knew that she had to win more than obedience from the girl; she had to win her loyalty. To herself, to the family, to the company. 

And to do that, she had to know everything about her.

Which brought Lillian back to the pile of notes before her, and onto the next pressing block of data to be analyzed - that of the girl’s powers.

They’d started testing the girl’s powers only a few days ago. As predicted, Lionel had already been absent for much of the first two weeks, but when Lillian mentioned that she’d completed all the arrangements and planned to start testing the girl’s abilities that very next day, Lionel had flatly stated flatly he would be there.

“I don’t believe you,” She scoffed over their nightly phone call. “You’re in France, darling. How do you expect to be here by tomorrow morning?”

“I’ll be there,” He repeatedly simply. “This is too important.”

Lillian nearly hung up before she could allow herself to make some retort about how funny it was that she’d never heard him say something like that during Lex’s upbringing. Instead she simply gave some noncommittal noise in reply, and they talked for a few minutes longer about the business before wishing each other a good night.

The next day, true to his word, Lionel had appeared at the testing site, looking rumpled and jet-lagged. Lillian had not told him where she planned on testing the child, but she knew he would have no trouble figuring it out - the only reasonable option within driving distance was the Luthors’ private experimental facility, the one that Lex and Lionel often used specifically to tinker with their own private projects. It was an enormous facility, half-underground, and utterly secret, with only a few trusted employees there to run the state of the art security system. Most, if not all, were ex-military.

Over the previous few days, Lillian had made countless arrangements to the facility, in the name of turning it into a rough testing site for superpowers. She had brought in various types of weights, rigging them up with a rudimentary sensory system, and transformed a corner of the facility to a makeshift clinic to measure the girl’s physiological capabilities. It was frustrating work, considering that Lillian didn’t know exactly what to look for. She’d even spent the last week monitoring the child, making note of apparent sensory issues (for instance, she often covered her ears and winced at loud noises, or would stare at the walls, eyes glazing over) and tried her best to work them into the planned testing. Still, she couldn’t help but feel that there was a huge chasm of possible abilities that she was missing, and the only one who could really tell her was the girl herself.

And she was far from having enough mastery over the English language to do so.

It was a difficult situation.

Lionel was already there when Lillian arrived promptly at nine, child in tow. The girl had followed her obediently enough, but broke into a smile and bounded forward when she caught sight of Lionel. 

“Hello, Kara.” He bent down so as to be at eye level with her, smiling. She almost looked as if she wanted to give him a hug, but pulled up short and waved, almost shyly. 

“Hello, Lionel.” Her accent was thick, but the greeting was understandable.

“You’ve made progress!” His grin was the kind Lillian recognized from when he had made a sudden breakthrough on a problem that had been stumping him. Nevermind that she had been the one working on the project. “Do you know why you’re here?”

She shook her head, confusion flashing across her face. “Progress?” She asked haltingly.

“You’re improving,” Lionel answered, pronouncing each word clearly. When the puzzled look didn’t leave her face, he simply laughed and reached out to ruffle her hair. “Never mind. You’ll get there.”

He stood again, and turned to face Lillian, his expression turning serious. “Is everything ready?”

“Of course.” If her reply was a little stiff, she felt that was warranted. It wasn’t as if Lionel had done much to help with all the organizing. “And I believe doctor Lowenstein is here already.”

“You brought Lowenstein?” Lionel looked surprised. His voice dropped to a whisper. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“Do you think I would have brought him in if I didn’t?” She retorted irritably. “I trust the man, Lionel. He’s worked under me for twenty years, on some of my most important projects. Not to mention he’s the family physician. Kara is meant to be part of the family, is she not?”

“Yes, I suppose…” He looked like he wanted to argue further, but chose not to. A good choice, in Lillian’s opinion.

“Right, then let’s get started - oh, and here he comes now.” She nodded behind Lionel, and he looked over his shoulder to see the physician approaching. Middle-aged, with a freckled and pockmarked face, sporting a paunch and a mop of red hair that was slowly turning grey, he hardly made an impressive figure. However, his blue - almost colorless - eyes, spoke of a calculating intelligence that belied his friendly smile. Lillian had never been fooled by his unimposing demeanor; they had worked together for years, and she knew that he was, in many ways, a genius and a visionary.

“Morning, Mrs. Luthor - and Mr. Luthor,” He added in surprise, and reached into his labcoat to take out a worn handkerchief, which he wiped across his forehead. “I didn’t expect you to be here.”

“Good morning to you too, doctor Lowenstein.” Lionel said in a voice that was painstakingly polite. He didn’t offer his hand, a gesture that Lowenstein didn’t seem to notice. The doctor’s gaze slid from the couple towards Kara, who took a nervous step backwards. 

“So you’re what today’s all about, aren’t you?” He laughed, as if he’d just told a very funny joke. Kara simply looked at him uncomprehendingly, eyes wide.

“Her English is still very basic,” Lillian informed him. “I’m afraid she won’t understand the majority of what you say.”

“No problem, not at all,” He replied, his eyes never leaving the child. They roamed greedily over her, as if he’d just found an exciting new toy to tinker with. “Now, you told me that she has...powers?”

“Yes,” Lillian confirmed. “At the very least, she possesses enormous strength, as well as powerful hearing, and possibly sight. I think there’s more, but unfortunately, it’s hard to tell. As you can imagine, it’s rather difficult to communicate with her.”

“And invulnerability,” Lionel interjected. “When I first found her, it was after she’d apparently crashed to earth. She didn’t have a scratch on her.”

“And I haven’t seen her get injured since,” Lillian added. “Not even a papercut.”

“Hmm,” Lowenstein hummed, face drawn up in thought. “Alright, we’ll start with the strength. Now, I know you two want to observe, but I would recommend keeping a bit of a distance. Just until we have an idea of what we’re dealing with.”

“Obviously,” Lillian said curtly, cutting off her husband, who looked as if her were about to disagree. “We’ll stand back.”

“Good.” Lowenstein stuffed the handkerchief back into his pocket, producing instead a small notebook and pen. He turned towards Kara, and smiled. “Ready to go?”

She looked at him, and then back to the Luthors. Lionel nodded encouragingly, and gestured towards the doctor. “Go with him, you’ll be fine.” His voice was reassuring enough that she stepped forward to follow him, only occasionally glancing back at the couple, who trailed a few feet behind.

As the testing began, with Lillian and Lionel standing off to the side, her husband reached out and snuck his hand into hers. She had the petulant urge to pull away, born of bitterness that sprouted every time she saw the way her husband looked at that child. It was the same way he’d used to look at their son - as if he’d just discovered the most fascinating thing in the world. 

However, she didn’t pull away. It would have been a silly, immature gesture, and anyway, it wasn’t as if she weren’t used to her husband’s behavior. Lionel had always loved children, but his interest waned as they matured into adults. She theorized that it was something about the potential they represented - an untapped resource that could turn into anything. Until, suddenly, they grew up and that potential was for the most part set in stone, or even wasted. Then, like always, Lionel would move onto his newest, undoubtedly more exciting project.

It was simply his personality - nothing to be done about it. Lillian had long since stopped trying.

“Can you believe we’re doing this?” Lionel murmured in her ear, and she nearly cast him a murderous glance. Nearly.

“No,” She answered stiffly instead. “And please, dear, temper your tone. It’s disgustingly optimistic, considering we’ve adopted an alien child, of which we know nothing about. I still don’t know how you talked me into it.”

“Oh, shush,” He laughed, unmoved by her brusque tone. “One of us has to be optimistic. Look at it as an opportunity for the company.”

“If she doesn’t murder our entire family first,” Lillian answered, her tone clipped.

Lionel frowned. “You know, she can probably hear you.”

“She can’t understand a word of English. I’ve barely gotten her past please and thank you, and her own name. And her accent is atrocious.”

Lionel just laughed again. “If there’s anyone I trust to whip that out of her, it’s you.”

“Hmm,” Lillian hummed noncommittally, and nodded towards where Lowenstein had led the child to the makeshift clinic. He was busy fitting the girl with a series of flesh-colored stickers; monitors that would read her body’s reactions, and measure her strength exertion, among other things. Despite his attempt at a friendly smile, the girl seemed uneasy, and kept edging away from him.

Lionel followed her gaze, and sighed. “Listen, I know you trust Lowenstein, but I don’t think he’s the best choice for this. I mean, the man is brilliant, but his bedside manner is...rather off-putting.”

Lillian snorted. “I could care less about his bedside manner. The girl can’t even understand what he’s saying. I’d rather have his years of experience in xenobiology rather than some doctor who speaks nicely but doesn’t know the appendix from the kidneys.”

“Alright, alright.” With a roll of his eyes, Lionel gave in. “I just want her to feel comfortable with us, you know that.”

“And she will,” Lilliana reassured him, her voice tough. “But there are things that must be done, to understand what exactly - ah, he appears to be calling us over.”

Whatever she meant to say dropped off as she and Lionel looked towards the clinic, where Lowenstein was gesturing for them to approach. The girl stood next to him, covered in monitors, and looking forlorn. She tugged at the hem of her shirt - a plain tank top - and fiddled with the drawstring of her sweatpants. They were simple clothes, coupled with basic white sneakers, bought specifically for the child’s testing. Lillian assumed them to be the utmost of comfort wear, but as always, the girl seemed ill at ease in the outfit. She wondered briefly if the girl’s sensory issues extended to touch, as well as sight and sound.

It was an interesting theory, and so she filed it away for later, as they approached the clinic.

“Are you ready to begin?” Lionel asked, a question that seemed to Lillian rather superfluous. Lowenstein simply nodded, however, and gestured to the nearby weights.

“We’ll start off small enough I think,” he answered, grinning with barely concealed excitement. “The kind an average child would be able to lift, and then move up slowly, and see how far we get.”

Lillian nodded, as did Lionel, and followed behind as Lowenstein guided the girl to the section of weights, though he never touched the child. Lillian had precautioned him not to, warning him that since they as yet didn’t know much about the girl’s biology, it would be prudent to keep a distance. They didn't yet know if she held any alien diseases or other infectious conditions, and that wasn’t even to mention the problem of her strength, which she had accidentally miswielded on more than one occasion. It had caused Lillian a fair amount of headaches.

In fact, Lillian herself didn’t touch the child, unless she absolutely had to, and she made sure nobody else did. It was a perfectly reasonably safety measure, and so of course the only one who openly and constantly flaunted it was her husband.

They arrived in front of the weights, and Lowenstein plunged in immediately. It was clear that he had been waiting on tenterhooks to begin, and now that he had begun the testing, his eyes were alight with a glowing enthusiasm, the kind that Lillian would call passionate and Lionel would call obsessive. She knew that Lowenstein had been waiting for years for the opportunity to test a ‘live alien specimen’. It was something he and Lillian had often discussed in their other burgeoning project. He’d already had the opportunity to dissect and examine several corpses, from which he had gained his credentials in xenobiology, but he had never been able to get his hands on a living alien - until now.

Lillian knew that Lionel worried about Lowenstein’s background in medical xenobiology. He hated the clinical way the doctor discussed specimens, and the cold, dispassionate view in which he regarded his work. Lowenstein could care less about alien culture, she knew. He cared only about what made them work on the inside. Lionel didn’t like that view, but it was, in her opinion, for the best. She didn’t need some wishy-washy doctor treating the alien girl like a human child - giving her lollipops and patting her on the shoulder - but rather a medical professional who would be able to accurately analyze the capabilities and dangers inherent in the young girl.

As Lowenstein began the processes - directing Kara to different weights, watching as she lifted and moved them in various ways, before scribbling it all down in a notepad - Lillian cast a sideways glance at her husband. He seemed to have put aside his disdain towards Lowenstein for the time being, having become completely absorbed in the experiment playing out in front of him. She regarded him carefully for several moments, watching his face flush with fascination, before tearing her eyes away to survey the experiment for herself. 

The process went surprisingly quickly. Immediately, it became obvious that the weights and heavy objects Lillian had scrounged together barely scratched the surface of the girl’s physical strength. She blew past them in minutes, and seemed almost bored as she tossed the last object over her head, though it easily weighed over two tons.

Lionel and Lowenstein watched the process in stupefied awe, Lionel occasionally letting out the occasional cheer - to which Lillian responded with a tight glare - while Lowenstein scribbled furiously into a yellow notebook, glancing up only occasionally to observe a particular weight or movement. Eventually, with an affirming nod from Lionel, he began to direct the girl around the enormous warehouse, picking up or moving the least sensitive of items - an old car Lex had once gouged for parts, for instance, or the wing of a plane that Lionel had been studying as part of a contract with an aircraft company. The girl moved through them all easily, though it became quickly apparent that her control left much to be desired; when she attempted to lift the junked car, she startled both herself and the accompanying adults by crumpling the fender in a too-strong grip.

“Good thing Lex abandoned his flying car idea,” Lionel murmured ruefully, as Kara cast him an extremely apologetic look, before shooting her a reassuring thumbs-up. She didn’t seem to know what the gesture meant, but relaxed all the same.

Lillian, for her part, didn’t reply. Instead, she simply watched as they advanced through the various tests, her lips pressed into a thin line and her expression unreadable.

***

By the time they finished the testing several hours later, Lionel and Lowenstein were agog with awed fascination, and Lillian was in a supremely bad mood.

Kara, for her part, just seemed tired - and justifiably so, as she had spent the day running the gamut of her physical abilities, which apparently stretched much farther than any of the adults had imagined.

Lionel seemed to have temporarily put aside his dislike for Lowenstein, and was deep in conversation with the doctor as the two bent together over the yellow notebook, now jam packed with new information about the girl’s physiological capabilities. Lillian watched them disapprovingly, and shook her head as she took in their excited smiles and enthusiastic gesturing. They were like little boys, she thought - the both of them. Little boys, dissecting a frog in their lab for the first time. As if they weren’t aware of the very real dangers present. As if they hadn’t just seen the raw power demonstrated - and by a mere child, no less.

The child in question sat on a nearby step stool, shuffling her feet idly as she stared at the ground. She looked bored, and though she parsed occasional glances towards the two men chattering excitedly about the newfound observations on her, it was with the air of a child waiting for their mother to finish talking to a friend at the grocery store. It was so utterly human, so utterly _childlike_ , that Lillian found it disconcerting. Watching her now, it would be easy to dismiss the girl as a simple human child, if not for the incredible and terrifying abilities Lillian had seen her display not hours ago.

And it _was_ terrifying. She saw no reason to deny that - no reason to ignore the spark of fear that had ignited in her chest, watching the girl crumple steel as if it were paper, burn a hole in the wall with little more than a blink, and travel an impossible distance in the blink of an eye.

It was terrifying. She was terrifying - and dangerous, though it was clear that Lionel didn’t see that. Or, if he did, he was ignoring the risks in favor of his childish fascination, as he always did. It was one of his most aggravating qualities, she thought, not to mention stupid. He’d never much cared about his own physical safety when it came in the way of a new discovery. In fact, she suspected the risk was what made it so exciting for him. The raw power, and the capabilities that the girl possessed - and Lillian wouldn’t deny that she saw those as well - filled him with a mad, ambitious, spark that overcame common sense.

She felt it too. How could she not? There was an awe in seeing the girl’s powers displayed, and a greed that accompanied it. It wasn't a possessive greed, exactly, but rather the kind of desire she’d felt when she was a child, taking apart a radio to see how it worked. It was the greed for knowledge, the desire to know it, to wield it into something that could change the world.

The girl could be a boon to the company, if not the world. If they raised her right, if they taught her correctly, if they made her a _Luthor_ \- 

That girl could change the world, Lillian knew. She could also destroy it. If they - if _Lillian_ \- couldn’t keep her properly controlled, then there was no telling what the girl could do. She could destroy the company, ruin everything the family had built over generations. It was a lot to gamble on.

And it all fell to Lillian.

Which was why she couldn’t help but fall into a sour mood as she watched the two men swap ideas and theories excitedly, looking for all the world as if they were working on a high school science project rather than the biggest discovery of the century. She didn’t much care to join them - she had already arranged for Lowenstein to compile all the data into a file that would be sent to her within the next day. She would study the results on her own time, before deciding how to implement them. In the meantime, there was far too much sophomoric enthusiasm passing between her husband and doctor Lowenstein for her to handle.

So Lillian pinched her nose and sighed briefly, before turning to the girl, sitting forlornly on the step stool.

“Kara,” she called, and the girl looked up instantly. “Come. We’re going home.”

The girl seemed to have understood the words, but she hesitated, casting an uncertain glance between Lillian and Lionel, who was still chatting as he pored over the yellow notebook.

“Lionel has work to do,” Lillian told her impatiently, and beckoned stiffly for her to stand. “Come now, the cook will have dinner waiting.”

If nothing else, the word ‘dinner’ got through to Kara, for her face cleared and she cast only a single last look towards Lionel, who didn’t seem to have noticed the exchange, before climbing to her feet.

“Okay, Lillian,” she said, and Lillian almost groaned at the accent, but she kept herself in check. 

“Try that again,” she told her sharply, and when Kara looked at her in confusion, repeated herself. “Try the words again, how I say them.”

Kara paused, considering. “Oh-kay, Lee-lee-in,” she pronounced slowly, and then looked up, waiting rather nervously for approval.

It was an improvement. Sort of. “That’s better,” Lillian told her, the edge in her tone somewhat receded. “Now remember, you don’t call me Lillian. Do you remember the other word you learned?”

Kara’s face screwed up as she thought back, trying to pluck the word from the flood of vocabulary she’d had crammed into her over the past fortnight. “Mo - mother?”

“Exactly.” Lillian rewarded her with a stiff nod of approval. “Now, try again.”

Kara tried it again. “Okay…mother.”

This time, at last, Lillian gave her a smile. It was only somewhat forced. “Perfect. Now let’s go.”

They left the warehouse, Lillian without a single glance back, but Kara looked back twice, almost disappointedly, towards where Lionel was still absorbed in his discussion. He didn’t notice their departure.

The next few days found Kara panned off to her English teacher for almost constant lessons, as Lillian holed herself up in her study. Lowenstein had sent the results almost immediately, and she had wasted no time in getting to work analyzing the litany of data that had been collected throughout the testing. It truly was an exhaustive list; there were, besides the obvious abilities that the girl had demonstrated, several surprises that they’d discovered throughout their day of testing, which Lillian found herself struggling to solve. Her strength and invulnerability, as well as sensitive hearing they had already surmised of in the weeks before the testing, but who would have guessed that the girl had heat vision, or for that matter, X-ray vision? Even the child herself seemed surprised when she’d attempted, at Lowenstein’s request, to look through a certain type of metal, and instead managed to burn a hole straight through the wall.

It was a bit of a shock, to say the least.

And what about freeze-breath? It was something out of a comic book, Lillian thought, and yet she had seen it with her own two eyes. Or flying, for that matter, though that she had known about before the testing, when the tutor had walked in to check on the girl’s studying, only to find her poring over a book, deep in concentration - and floating five feet about her chair.

Luckily, besides the straight data they’d managed to collect, there had been a couple other useful discoveries as well - discoveries that made Lillian breathe slightly easier. The first was the girl’s inability to see through lead, which they’d discovered, fortunately, when Lowenstein had insisted with painstaking thoroughness to test her X-ray vision on at least twenty different substances.

The greatest boon, however, came two days after the testing took place, in the form of a dossier compiled by Lowenstein, which covered the complete physiological profile of the girl. It contained everything that Lowenstein had managed to glean from not only the physical tests, but the multitude of clinical checks he had run on the girl as well. He'd run the tests with absolute attention to detail, collecting samples of hair, saliva, anything except her blood, which had proved impossible to collect. Lillian knew that Lowenstein, obsessive as he was, had probably locked himself immediately in his lab after the tests had ended, with no plans to leave before developing the most complete physiological profile on the girl he was capable of.

And he had certainly delivered. As Lillian read over the data he’d managed to collect, along with the hypotheses and conclusions he’d drawn from the experiment, she couldn’t help but be impressed. Lowenstein theorized that her powers seemed to come from the yellow star around which earth orbited, and suggested, based on analysis of the samples taken, that the girl’s home planet had been based around a red star. If true, Lowenstein wrote, the theory would imply that subjecting the girl to simulated red sunlight would weaken her powers, if not drain her of them completely.

It was an interesting theory, and Lillian filed it away as something to be tested as soon as possible. If the girl had a weakness, or weaknesses, plural, then they would have to use them. Create safeguards, insurances. Things that would keep her in check, in case the whole preposterous plan of Lionel’s went sideways. It never hurt to be safe.

She had just about finished reading through the dossier, and was already drawing up plans for devices in her mind, when the last section caught her eye. She raised an eyebrow, and leaned forward, blinking against the harsh light of the computer screen. An absentminded part of her noted that she was really past the age for reading glasses.

_Section 5.a. Possible reaction to radioactive material found attached to subject’s ship_

_At the permission of Mr. Luthor, I was allowed access to the subject’s pod, with the intent of examining any possible foreign material within that might shed some light on the subject’s home planet, and the biological variances so-implied. While I was unable to access any of the pod’s files, nor activate the computer (which, to my understanding, has not yet been accomplished by any of those who have attempted), I was lucky enough to find some strange, apparently radioactive material clinging to the hull and underside of the ship. The substance is green in color, almost crystal-like in appearance, and seems to have no effect on humans. However: upon cross-examining the substance with the subject’s biological samples, I was amazed to discover that the substance causes an instantaneous reaction within the subject’s DNA. Further examination is needed, highly recommended to bring the subject in for more testing._

Lillian finished the section and leaned back in her chair, templing her hands in front of her keyboard. 

“Interesting,” she breathed, as her mind began to spin with ideas and questions at the discovery. She sat, frozen in thought, for several long minutes as she deliberated over the possibilities. 

At last, she came to a decision. A few clicks took her out of the dossier and into her second, heavily encrypted email, where she began to type.

_RE: further testing_

_Lowenstein - found the dossier on the girl’s physiological profile highly valuable. Tell me what you need, and I will arrange for immediate further testing, as soon as possible. In addition, I believe it wise to continue testing the girl, at least yearly, so as to continue to build a profile on the girl’s capabilities and physical growth. We need to know everything we can._

_-Lillian_

A click later, the email was sent and she leaned back once more in her seat, as the first sense of relaxation she’d felt in several days rolled over her. They had made progress - mapping her capabilities, studying her weaknesses, learning her physiology - and hopefully, with further testing, they would be able to create some way of safeguarding against the girl, in the event that she became incontrollable.

It wasn’t much, but it was a start. And for the first time since that damned pod had crashed, and her husband had led the strange alien child into her home, Lillian had the feeling that maybe, just _maybe_ , this plan was going to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If any of you guys have read my other WIP ‘we could be heroes’, aka my teenage vigilante!Kara AU, you’ll probably recognize Dr Lowenstein. He’s an OC that I actually thought up originally for this WIP, and then incorporated into my other AU out of a need for a similar character. Don’t worry though, he’s just as evil here. Possibly more so.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What? Am I posting another chapter? I honestly don't believe it myself. This one has been sitting half-written in my folder for ages, unfortunately. I've only now gotten it finished and cleaned up, so of course I'm not gonna leave people hanging.
> 
> And I'm not sure when the next chapter will come out, because though I love writing supercorp, the quality of the show has really put me off to the point where I haven't even been following season four. So it's hard to get up the enthusiasm to write. But I'm not giving up yet!

“Repeat after me: the quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog.”

Kara swallowed, and began to shift her weight nervously from one foot to the other, only to freeze in place as Lillian shot her a piercing glare. Slowly, she settled back into the proper stance as she had been taught; back straight, shoulders thrown back, hands clasped behind her back. Then, with utmost care, she began to speak.

“The quick..brown fox jumps… _o-_ ver the lazy dog.”

She stumbled once in the middle, but quickly recovered, and then settled back onto her heels, to wait for Lillian’s judgment. She never had to wait long; Lillian didn’t miss a single mistake, and made a point never to hold back her criticism, even though Kara understood only about half of it. She was a fast learner, but with only four weeks of English lessons under her belt, there was still a long way to go.

However, this time Lillian didn’t immediately shoot off a scathing round of criticism. Instead she surveyed Kara for several long moments, before saying, “Your pronunciation is fine, but your accent is still…strong. At the very least, it was understandable.”

At this unexpected praise - dry as it was - Kara released her released the breath she was holding, and let her shoulders sag in relief - until Lillian’s sharp voice jerked her upright again.

“Straighten up! I don't recall saying we were finished. Your pronunciation may be _passable_ , but there's still much to work on. And I hope you don't think your ability to spit out one simple sentence is enough to finish our session.”

“Sorry, mother,” Kara said, abashed. She didn't understand all of what Lillian had just said, but she had caught the gist of it - and she knew it wasn't good. Then again, when did her new guardian - Kara couldn't quite bring herself to call her ‘mother’ in anything other than English - ever say anything good?

“Hmm.” Lillian eyed her disapprovingly for a moment, and Kara waited nervously for her next scathing comment. She wondered if it would be better if she could understand exactly what she was saying, and then decided that it probably wouldn't be.

But Lillian just gestured for her to continue. “Alright, next exercise.”

Kara almost grimaced, but caught herself at the last second. Instead she schooled her face quickly into the mask she'd been learning to carefully place over her emotions, and began to speak.

“My name is Kara L-Luthor. I am thirteen years old, and my birthday is S - se - september… _sixth._ I was born in nine-teen -? And ninety-one -"

“No and.”

Kara stopped, startled. “No…and?”

Lillian sniffed in disgust. “You make this mistake every time. There is no ‘and’ between nineteen and ninety-one. Nineteen ninety-one. As if it were one word. Now try again.”

Kara, who had been leaning unconsciously forward, straining to catch each word of Lillian’s quickly issued correction, jerked back into her proper stance and then began to speak. “I was born in nine-teen ninety-one. I -”

“No, no,” Lillian’s words once again cut sharply through Kara’s carefully learned speech, who fell silent instantly. “From the beginning. Now.”

She gave a dismissive wave of her hand to emphasize the command, and Kara came as close as she ever did to letting out a defeated sigh. It was tempting, certainly, to give in to her mental tiredness and start complaining but - she didn’t dare. Mainly because she didn’t have the words to voice her complaints, and she had long since learned that Lillian would not listen to anything less than perfect English. Any attempts at speaking Kryptonian were also ignored, and though Kara grudgingly understood the use of such harsh methods, she certainly didn’t enjoy it. It also left her frustratingly silent most of the time, unable to voice more than the simplest of thoughts, nor to understand more than the most basic of replies. 

Four weeks on earth, and Kara already felt more lonely than she ever recalled being in her life. At least in her pod, she had been asleep.

Still, she swallowed her sigh, and opened her mouth. Painstakingly, she began to speak. “My name is Kara Luthor. I am thirteen -”

———

The session continued for several more iterations of Kara’s speech, and would probably have continued for much longer if Lillian’s phone hadn’t interrupted with a vibration that nearly sent it clattering off the table she had placed it upon. Lillian reached out one hand to stop the phone before it went over the edge, and with the other held up a finger to stop what was now Kara’s fourth attempt at reproducing the speech. As Kara stuttered to a halt, she lifted the phone with the indications of somebody who was planning on ignoring the call, and then froze. 

The phone continued to buzz, and despite herself, Kara found herself tempted to crane forward and try to see whose name was upon the phone, despite her less than average reading skills. She had never seen Lillian react in such a way to a phone call, and she could think of very few things that would warrant such a reaction. The end of this world, maybe. 

But she didn’t have the time to try and catch a glimpse of the screen, for barely a second passed before Lillian unfroze. Without even looking at Kara she gave a dismissive wave toward the door and said, “The session is finished for now. Go back to your regular English tutor and tell her to focus on reading for the time being. Now, get out and close the door behind you.”

Kara hesitated for less than a second, still slightly curious about the mysterious phone call, and then decided to take the opportunity and scurry for the door, making sure to move at what would be considered human speed. Lillian had admonished her for such a thing more than once.

Once Kara had left, Lillian glanced at the door - which had been closed just a little too roughly, she really had to get a physical coach for the girl - and then turn back to her phone, which was still vibrating. The screen read **No Caller ID** , and with barely concealed eagerness, she swiped open the call and held the phone up to her ear.

_“Mrs. Luthor? I’m glad you answered. I’m calling about the package you requested through my company.”_

“It’s here? I didn’t expect it so soon.”

_“Not…exactly. We have it ready to be delivered, but we want to make sure you have a secure location. And you have to be there to receive the package in person, obviously.”_

“Understandable.” Lillian clicked her tongue as she considered, and then said, “I do have a location. When can you have it delivered?”

_“By this afternoon. Just send us a location, and give us a time.”_

“Good. We’ll meet at 4:15 this afternoon. I’ll send your employer the location. Don’t be late.”

_“Perfect.”_

The call clicked to indicate its end, and Lillian didn’t waste any time with her next actions. It only took her a few quick taps on the keyboard to send off the address to the desired recipient, and then she opened her email and shot off a quick message to Lowenstein, who she knew at this hour would be working in his office, and thus see the email immediately.

_Lowenstein,_  
Meet me at the lab (not the official one, the other one) at 4:30 this afternoon. I have something to show you regarding Kara. If all goes well, I think we can start making headway on those experiments we talked about.  
\- Lillian 

She sent the email off with one confident tap, and then tucked her phone into her pocket and rose to her feet. She barely noticed as she opened the door, and let her feet carry her down the hallway. Her mind was filled with thoughts of the near-future, of the delivery that would come in only a few hours, and how she would explain her plan to Lowenstein. He wouldn’t like it, she knew that. But he would go along with it in the end, of that she was sure. It would give him what he wanted, after all.

And besides, it wasn’t as if he had a choice. 

———

Lowenstein stared dubiously at the small device resting on the table in front of him. It was small, and slick in a silvery, futuristic sort of way, but otherwise rather nondescript. It looked, for all intents and purposes, like a high-tech Bluetooth earpiece. 

“Where did you get this again?” he asked, and glanced up at Lillian, who was watching him with a hawk-like gaze.

“You know that’s not the kind of thing to be asking,” she chided sharply, and crossed her arms over her chest, her posture stiff enough to belie the nerves that Lowenstein knew must be running somewhere deep under the surface of her icy exterior. “Rest assured, I procured this device from a trusted source. It should work for our purposes.”

“On an alien, though?” he asked, and ran his finger thoughtfully against the edge of the desk, drawing a thin line of dust away with him. He examined the gray dust on the pad of his finger just for a moment, and then wiped it against the fabric of his pants.

“It’ll have to,” Lillian said, in a voice that made it clear she did not want an argument. “And it’s not as if we have a choice here. These tests need to be done, and I can’t see any way to make that happen without thoroughly traumatizing the child. In any case, it’s probably for the best that she not remember these checkups. I don’t think it would bode well for her mental development.”

“I’m sure,” Lowenstein murmured, though his eyes were still on the device in front of him. He swallowed nervously, sending his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. “So tell me again just how you want to do this.”

Lillian gave a short huff of annoyance at his request, and stalked over to the desk. She snatched up the device, and held it up to the light. “It's all very simple, really. I’ll bring her in for a normal check-up, and before we really get started, you’ll activate this device and place it in her ear. Tell her it's meant to help record the results. It's supposed to block higher brain functioning, make her compliant. I suppose you could call it a mind-control device of you're into those trashy sci-fi novels Lionel enjoys.” 

She sniffed once, disapprovingly, and set the device back down. Lowenstein’s eyes followed the movement, and then flicked back to her face as she continued her explanation. “Once it's in and activated, she shouldn't remember anything we don't want her to, and obviously we can adjust it if we need to. It's a fascinating little piece of equipment, actually.”

There was a pause as she finished speaking, until Lowenstein broke it with a nervous cough. “And what if it doesn't work?”

Lillian looked at him, and then shrugged, setting her hip against the table. “It shouldn't matter. We’ll go slowly, start with something small and see if it works. We don't have to jump in all at once, Lowenstein. We're not freshman playing in the university lab.”

“Right, right,” Lowenstein said, and leaned back in his chair with a decidedly frustrated humph. “I'm not doubting you, Lillian. I just - I have to be aware of the risks more than anyone. After all, the tests I'm running -”

“- are necessary,” Lillian cut in.

Lowenstein paused at the interruption, and gave her a long, measured look. “- are painful, I was going to say. There’s no way around that. If we need to know her weaknesses, we need to know what makes her hurt. And if she remembers any part of what we do to her…” he trailed off, letting the implication of his words sink in. Lillian didn’t respond at first. Instead she stared at the device perched upon the desk, her gaze boring into them with a strange, unreadable intensity. When she spoke, the words didn’t seem to be directed to him, but rather to herself.

“I know the risks.”

Lowenstein shifted uncomfortably. “I know you do. I just want to make sure, because, well…I am bearing the brunt of them.”

It was a risk to speak so openly, so directly, but Lillian didn’t snap at the words. Her gaze lingered on the device for a moment longer, almost as if she were trying to scrutinize it's effectiveness from appearance alone. Then she let out a weary breath, and straightened up ever so slightly, before turning back to face him.

“You won’t bear the brunt of the risks. I’ll accompany the child, and be with you throughout the first trial. We’ll take it slowly, and if it doesn’t appear to be working, we’ll cancel the tests and try and think of something else. Is that acceptable to your sense of well-being?”

The last words had the old familiar bite to them, but Lowenstein didn’t mind. He gave a curt nod, a rather affected gesture which betrayed his relief at the concessions. “Yes, Lillian, that sounds great. But what if she remembers -?”

“She won’t remember,” Lillian snapped at him, a flash of fire in her eyes before her expression slid back to a cold impassivity. “She won’t,” she repeated, her voice slightly softer. “I’m telling you Lowenstein, this device comes from a trusted source, and you know I don’t use such a word lightly. I've gathered as much data as I can on her brain activity to compare with the workings of this thing, and though I won't diminish the risk involved -”

“It’s necessary, I know, I know,” Lowenstein muttered, his eyes dropping to the ground. He took out a worn handkerchief and used it to dab at his hairline, though there was no sweat present. He stuffed it back into his pocket, and then sighed, and looked back up towards Lillian. “Does Lionel know?”

Lillian let out a contemptuous snort. “Please, Lowenstein. Lionel doesn’t have the balls.”

————

By the time they had readied everything for the first test, another two weeks had passed, marking six weeks since they day Kara had arrived into the Luthor household. As far as Lillian could recall, it might have been the most exhausting six weeks of her life - which was a heavy claim to make, as the wife of Lionel Luthor and co-head of one of the most powerful tech companies in the world. Lillian had survived a lot of exhausting weeks in her life, many of which took place during Lex’s early childhood. She had thought she was equipped as a mother - and maybe she was. But wasn’t the ‘mothering’ of Kara that was causing Lillian so many headaches.

It was the…alienness of her.

Lillian didn’t like science fiction. She didn’t like science that had no real-world ground to stand on, and she most certainly didn’t like those cheap sci-fi novels that Lionel claimed gave him ‘inspiration’. In Lillian’s opinion, anything that involved special powers, aliens, or aerodynamically-challenged spaceships, was a crock of nonsense.

Unfortunately, Kara involved all three.

The spaceship had been moved and locked up immediately, thanks to her husband’s quick thinking. Only he, Lillian, and a few trusted employees knew of its location, and she was determined to keep it just like that. The…alienness of the girl was something Lillian was furiously working to whip out of her, through copious lessons and multiple tutors all tied to detailed non-disclosure agreements. On that front, at least she could admit, there was progress.

The special powers, however, were something else entirely. And it was those special powers, Lillian determined, that made up the majority of her headaches. 

Because with whatever planet Kara had come from, it was clear that her powers were as new to her as they were to Lillian - and the rest of the Luthor household, for that matter. Her tutors were all slightly scared of her, if only because of her woeful habit of accidentally crushing pencils in her hands, but they were nothing compared to the household staff.

The staff _hated_ her, and Lillian honestly didn’t blame them. The girl was something of a human wrecking ball, if the term human could be at all used, because her ability to cause household chaos was anything but. There were a few memorable accidents, like the time she had rounded a corner at too high of a speed, and crashed right through the china cabinet (Lillian was still grieving over the loss of the family china set, which had been valued at well over a million dollars), but most of the problems she caused were garden variety headaches. Like the time she tore the doorknob off the downstairs bathroom. Or tripped on the stairs, and put her foot right through the floor. Or looked at the family portrait they had commissioned a couple years ago, and accidentally burned it to a crisp.

(Lillian was still debating whether the last one was really a loss. She had never really liked that portrait, and had been debating the pros and cons of getting a new one. Now, it seemed she had no choice. Still, a redo probably meant that the girl would have to be included, and that was something that Lillian simply couldn’t give herself over to. Not yet.)

With all the growing whispers and nasty glares from the household staff, Lillian was desperate to find some sort of solution to the many problems Kara’s powers caused. To that end, the past two weeks had been filled with long, busy days and sleepless nights, as she and Lowenstein worked furiously to prepare for Kara’s first ‘medical checkup’. Safety mechanisms (hopefully not to be used) had to be put in place, a workable space had to be developed, more, seemingly endless research had to be done, and the experiments they would perform had to be fully developed and planned out, down to every minuscule detail. Although every day that passed with them _still_ in the dark about the extent of Kara's abilities was a day Lillian felt her blood pressure rising, she had to concede that she could not forfeit safety for the impatience that screamed at her.

Still, after about two weeks of work, Lillian was fairly confident that everything was as good as it was going to get. The safeties were in place; the device had been tested on some hapless employee - and appeared to be a success, for he didn't remember a thing. 

They were ready.

And in the nick of time too, for Lillian was at the end of her rope. She could barely keep from snapping at the girl as she herded her into the designated testing area. They had eventually decided to use the building of their last testing, for ease and security, but the concession did little to lighten their workload. It had still been necessary to fortify the building, along with the lab equipment and area Lowenstein intended on using. Unfortunately, they had no proven safeguards with which to stop the girl, and that made Lillian incredibly edgy, a feeling which grew as she entered the building, Kara in tow, and made a beeline for the lab in which Lowenstein was setting up.

“Come on,” she snapped when the girl slowed to glance around, and upped her place, forcing her into a jog. It was juvenile, she knew, and wouldn’t bother the girl besides, but it gave Lillian a mean sense of satisfaction. “We’re late.”

This too wasn’t objectively true, since Lowenstein would wait as long as it took Lillian to arrive, but the girl didn’t question it. She fell into an easy jog, but slowed up once more as they entered the lab, partitioned off from the rest of the warehouse.

“More…tests?”

“A check up.” She couldn’t keep the irritation out of her voice. “You remember Dr. Lowenstein?”

She stepped aside and gestured toward Lowenstein, who waved in a somewhat genial fashion. The motion was too jerky however, and his eyes too wide and nervous, to entirely sell it. Kara took a step backward. “Y-yes.”

“Oh, don’t be rude.” Lillian clucked her tone, and pushed her forward. For a moment, Kara didn’t budge, still as stone, and then her lessons seemed to click in and she moved forward in an artful stumble. She was improving in that, at least. “Dr. Lowenstein is an excellent doctor, and he’s here to run a few more tests, just to verify your safety on this planet.”

“…verify?”

“Make you safe.” Lowenstein stepped forward and, unlike before, offered a sweaty hand. His smile was smoother now, enough to make Kara reach out and tentatively take it. Lillian watched, frowning, as she gave his hand the barest touch, and dropped it. They had been practicing handshakes, and apparently Kara ran on the side of caution. Oh well. Probably a good thing, for now. 

“Just a couple, nothing to worry about.” Lowenstein indicated the equipment behind him. “Humans do these all the time.”

Kara looked at the equipment behind him, then towards Lillian, who gave a curt nod. “He’s right, Kara. We need to make sure your biology interacts well the flora and fauna here on earth. Otherwise, you could be in danger.”

She wasn’t sure if Kara entirely understood, for she stared at her for a moment, frowning. Then, slowly, “It..does.”

Lowenstein laughed, the sound bubbling up from his throat in a way that wasn’t entirely pleasant. “Oh, we think it does! But we need to check now, don’t we? What if you get sick, and we don’t know which medicines we can treat you with? That would be terrible, absolutely terrible.”

He was overselling it at this point, Lillian thought, but Kara seemed to be buying it. She looked up at him, then again at the equipment, sizing it up, and seemed to decide it held no immediate threat. “Okay. I’ll…test.”

“Be tested,” Lillian muttered, but Lowenstein was already clapping his hands together, enthusiasm having returned with her agreement. “Alright then! Let’s get going, shall we?”

He turned to the table behind him, and swiped up a small box sitting upon it, which Kara eyed warily. From it he produced the device Lillian had procured, the earpiece, and held it out for Kara to see.

“Do you see this?” It took her a moment to decipher his words, and then she nodded. “Perfect! And do you know what it does?”

After a moment, she shook her head. Lowenstein nodded, as if he had expected this. He placed the empty box back on the table behind him, then leaned down slightly, and tilted his head so Kara could see his ear. “See this? It goes in your ear. I have one too, it helps me record results.”

She stared at it for a moment, and then he turned his head back, shaking his hair slightly so that it covered the bluetooth, and showed her once more the ear piece in his hand. “You’re going to put this in your ear, you understand?”

Kara continued to stare, nonplussed, so he moved the ear piece to his own ear and back again, miming placing it. At this she seemed to understand, and nodded. “That’s…mine..right?”

“Yes!” he crowed, and stuck his hand out, the piece lying flat in his open palm. She looked at it, then at Lillian, who nodded. Then, hesitantly, she nodded as well. She didn’t reach out to take it.

Lowenstein grinned in success, and went to work. He snapped his palm shut, and then brought the piece up to her ear. She tilted her head to the side slightly, brushing her hair back, and with a quick movement he placed it, pressing a few buttons along the side. “Perfect! Now I can get your results in real time!”

He stepped back, and stuck his hands in his pockets. Kara looked between him and Lillian, and opened her mouth to say something - and then didn’t. As they watched, her head drooped slightly, though she remained standing, and her eyes grew glassy, her gaze unfocused.

Lillian let out a sigh of relief, which was mirrored by Lowenstein. He withdrew his hand from his pocket, and examined the small tablet-remote he had fiddled with. “I think we’ve got it on the highest setting right now. Should be more than enough, but I say we start with something easy.”

“I agree. And I appreciate the ear piece idea.” It was a rare piece of praise, and she glanced at Lowenstein, who just gave an artful smile. “I assume it’s just a Bluetooth?”

“Of course.” He chuckled. “But it worked, didn’t it? I figured she would think I’d get her results fed into my ear or something. She’s no stranger to advanced technology, I’m sure.”

“Hmm.” Lillian nodded absently. “You’re probably right. Well, let’s get this show on the road, anyway. What did you want to start with?”

“The red sunlight,” Lowenstein answered without a moment’s pause. “It’s the easiest, likely painless. Let’s try her out.”

He looked at Kara, who so far was still standing in the same spot, unmoving, her head tilted towards the ground. “Kara - go to the sun bed. Right there, in the corner.”

There was no indication that she had heard, but she turned and walked over, and didn’t pause when she arrived, but climbed upon it herself. Lowenstein and Lillian glanced at each other, and there was shared victory in their eyes. Lowenstein spoke first. “Not bad at all.”

“We’ll see.” Lillian couldn’t quite swallow Lowenstein’s immediate optimism. “Let’s just get her through the first test. Then we’ll see how she fares against the real challenges.”

————

The red sunlight testing went quickly, and had them both breathing a sigh of relief at its apparent success. It appeared that red sunlight _did_ have a diminishing effect on the girl’s powers, which gave Lillian a level of comfort she hadn’t been able to find for the past six weeks. Now they had the ability to stifle the girl if she got out of control. She was still dangerous, obviously, but now real safeguards could be developed. Lillian didn’t have to live in fear, for herself or for her family.

The next test was more daunting.

“And those are the rocks you found outside the ship?” she asked Lowenstein as he typed in the code to the lead-lined box. He didn’t look up at her as she answered.

“Yes, I collected them all here. I made an educated guess about the lead, which seems to be accurate. She can’t sense them while they’re in here. I don’t know if she can sense them at all, but -”

A murmured cry interrupted them, and they both spun around to the examination bed upon which Kara sat. At first glance they expected her to be staring up at them, pain and anger in her eyes, and Lillian briefly wondered what they could do to safeguard against her powers now -

But she wasn’t looking at them. Her hands cradled her head, and she seemed to be in pain, but when she looked up, her eyes were still glassy and unfocused.

“It’s still on the highest setting, isn’t it?” Lillian hissed, and Lowenstein dove into his pocket to pull out the controller.

“Yes, yes it is! She must still be under the influence, she’s just feeling the effects of…”

Slowly, he trailed off, then turned to look at the box. Lillian turned as well, and followed his gaze. The box was open, and though she couldn’t see inside, its contents emanated a sickly green glow. They both stared for a moment, and then Lowenstein took a step closer and peeked inside. Lillian did as well.

“Does it always look like that?”

“More or less, yes, only not as…vivid.”

Another cry came from Kara, and when they turned to look at her, Lillian nearly blanched in horror. Her veins stuck out prominently along her entire body, running the exact same shade of green as the contents inside the box. She seemed to be glowing as well, and when she opened her eyes, raising her head slightly, her eyes, too, were a matching green.

Lowenstein’s voice sounded to her left, awed. “We were right. It does have an effect.”

And at last Lillian found her voice as well. “The ultimate safeguard.”

Lowenstein’s gaze snapped up to look at her. “We don’t know that yet! It could kill her.”

She gazed at Kara for a moment longer, and then turned back to Lowenstein. Her eyes were cold. “Well then, we’ll have to find that out, won’t we?”

He looked between Lillian and Kara for a moment, and then shrugged. “You’re right. But we need to be cautious. I need to hook her up to the monitors, so I can see her vitals. We need to do this slowly, and carefully.”

“Yes.” Lillian had turned back to watch Kara, who hadn’t moved from the examination bed, but was whimpering and moaning, her head in her hands. “Do it slowly. But do it.”

Lowenstein glanced at her one last time, and then scurried off to set up the monitoring equipment. It took little time, and when he led Kara to the equipment, she followed easily, despite the clear pain in her expression. Lillian watched this all without saying a word, though the success and relief was etched into every line of her face.

As soon as the girl was hooked up, Lowenstein turned to Lillian. “We already know it affects her at a range. What do you recommend I test now? Keep in mind, it has to be done slowly.”

Lillian shrugged. “I think it’s obvious. We know it affects her from a range. So bring it closer. Skin to skin contact, I don’t care. I want to see.”

And maybe she was throwing caution a little bit to the wind, yes, but she was riding high on their success, on the accumulated stress and fear of six weeks dripping off her, and it made her hasty. Suddenly she wanted to see - no, _had_ to see the effects of their newest weapon. It itched at her to know, just to be sure, that it really affected the girl. Like one last step before the finish line. She just had to make sure.

She needed this one last option. The nuclear button, in case things went terribly wrong with Lionel’s idiot experiment. The ultimate safeguard.

“Alright.” Lowenstein shrugged, but his accompanying gulp ruined the nonchalance of the movement. Carefully, he removed the rocks from the box, and stepped closer to Kara, who reacted immediately, squirming and crying out. Lowenstein took another step closer, and she made a move as if to flee.

“Stay there!” Lillian barked, and it had the intended effect; Kara kept squirming, but didn’t run. She was firmly in place, still, when Lowenstein was arms-length away from her, and it only took another step before he was standing right in front. She was crying now, tears streaming down her face, but her eyes were still unfocused, despite the green shade over them. She was still under control.

Lowenstein hesitated, and looked over to Lillian. “Are you sure you want me to…?”

She shrugged, but couldn’t hide the strained excitement in her voice. “Yes, of course. Do it.”

Lowenstein heaved a sigh, and then took one of the rocks, and held it close to Kara’s arm. He paused, only for a second, and then pressed it to her skin.

The ensuing screams echoed throughout the entire warehouse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, Lillian's terrible. Also for everybody who commented and I didn't get back to, just know that your comments are truly appreciated! Mental health has been kicking my ass lately, but I'm trying to get back on top of things and actually replying. Just know that you're all incredibly appreciated, and make me smile :)


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